


Nothing's Alright

by imtoolazytothinkofausername



Category: Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (Cartoon 2010)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22739356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imtoolazytothinkofausername/pseuds/imtoolazytothinkofausername
Summary: It would be a mistake to think that Fred never visited his not-dad in prison.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	Nothing's Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not own any incarnation of Scooby Doo or their characters. I’m not writing this for profit.

The first time Fred saw his not-father after the man’s arrest was about a week after Fred had returned to Crystal Cove. Fred hadn’t planned it, although in retrospect he should have known that seeing the man was possible, even likely. They were visiting the prison, after all. He and the gang had needed to ask one of the inmates a question about an old mill. They’d been walking down a corridor with glass walls that let them look down on the room below, and Fred had glanced down out of idle curiosity. And then he’d stopped. Perched in an armchair in the prison library was Fred Jones Sr. 

The old mayor was reading a book; he was too far away for Fred to tell which one. But Fred could see the top of his not-father's head and part of his face. The familiar black hair, flecked with gray...more gray than Fred remembered, and a part of Fred hoped guilt had done that...still combed to perfection. Clearly being in prison hadn’t lessened the time his not-father spent on his hair. Maybe it had even increased it, Fred thought. The ex-mayor still had the same black glasses with square rims. 

Seeing him...it filled Fred with all kinds of emotions. Anger. Fear. Guilt. Love. A longing for acceptance and affection, no matter how slight. It had been over a year since he’d last seen his not-dad, and that year had been lonely. As Fred grew up, Fred’s father had always been busy. When Fred had been younger, though, at least the man had spent most of his free time with Fred. (Now Fred wondered if that was out of affection or because the man wanted to keep his eye on his hostage.) But as Fred grew up, the man he knew as “Dad” had grown more and more distant. By the time Fred Sr. had been arrested, the mayor only really saw his son in the mornings and in the evenings. If they met in between, it was usually incidentally, when the team was solving a mystery. But the man had been there. 

On the road, looking for his real parents, there had been no one. No one to greet Fred in the morning. No one to say goodnight to. No one to tell him to study or remind him to eat something healthier than pizza. Fred had missed this man...had missed having a family, no matter how small, and missed having a parental figure in his life. And this man was to blame for all of the times that Fred had gone to sleep in the Mystery Machine, wondering if he would ever find his parents, shivering because he’d forgotten his blanket at the last campsite and was too far from the nearest town to buy another that night. This man- 

“He spends a lot of time here.” 

Fred jumped at the voice. He felt almost ashamed when he looked up at the Sheriff. Stone had (reluctantly) let them in so that they could solve a crime, not so Fred could get caught up in his emotions. If Fred had truly been a man, he shouldn’t have gotten distracted. Well, that was what his not-father would have said. 

“He uses the gym, too, keeps himself fit.” There must have been something questioning in Fred’s gaze, because Stone looked away and down at Fred Jones Sr. “Crystal Cove’s law enforcement is understaffed...ironic, given the number of creeps in costumes we have, but there you have it. Sometimes we need to help out with guard duty here. When I am here, I keep an eye on him.” 

“Do...do you ever talk to him?” 

The pause told Fred more than Stone’s answer, and Fred wondered exactly his not-dad and the Sheriff talked about. And how often. “...sometimes. I talk to a lot of the inmates.” 

“And...” Fred hesitated, feeling a bit sheepish. “Does he...does he ever ask about me?” He knew he shouldn’t care. The man he’d called “Dad” was actually his kidnapper. Mayor Jones had spent most of Fred’s teenage years making Fred feel inadequate. Fred shouldn’t want to see his not-dad. He shouldn’t want the man to ask about him. But he did. 

The Sheriff looked back up at Fred, an inscrutable expression on his face. Was it understanding? Judgment? Guilt? “Fred...” Stone paused, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then closed it again. The man rubbed the back of his neck, eyes falling to the floor. “Look, kid. I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t read too much into this, but he asks about you all the time.” 

And that made Fred want to smile just as much as it made his stomach churn. 


End file.
